


Private Citizen

by Singerdiva01



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singerdiva01/pseuds/Singerdiva01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew there had to be some perks to being a private citizen on New Caprica. She just didn't expect Sam Anders to be one of them. (Set on New Caprica before the occupation, with some plot that's pretty much there to facilitate the smut!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Citizen

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to lanalucy for the beta and the support!

Everyone stopped talking when she walked into the bar.

Laura felt the heat rising in her cheeks. She ducked her head to pretend to fiddle with the clasp on her coat and cursed herself for coming. She considered turning around and going back out the door, but she knew from experience the gossip that would start would be just as bad as whatever rumors came with staying. 

And at least if she stayed, there was the possibility of getting too drunk to care for a while. 

Anyone else would have had to fight their way to the bar but the crowd parted for the former president. She smiled gamely at the colonists who murmured her ex-title in her direction and kept her gaze focused on the bar stool she’d picked out. The noise level had returned to a relative cacophony by the time she made it, but she could still feel dozens of eyes on her back. 

She’d just pulled out the stool and shrugged off her coat when Sam Anders appeared at her side, a cocky grin on his face and a jar of something murky in his hand. 

“Hey, Madame President,” he greeted her warmly. He took her coat and helped her settle on the stool, all without abandoning his drink. “Want some company?”

Laura blinked and looked around for the group of hardy, rowdy young men who were rarely far from the former Pyramid star. She spotted them in the far corner. A few were looking their direction, but most of them were engrossed in what looked like a game involving a cup and a coin. 

“You sure your friends can spare you, Mr. Anders?”

He quirked an amused eyebrow in their direction and pulled out the stool next to Laura. 

“I think they can manage to get stupid drunk without me,” he said wryly. “Can I get you a drink?”

He pointed at his own concoction and she nodded, grateful to be spared both the indignity of sitting alone and the peril of choosing from the suspicious array of unmarked bottles lining the back of the bar. 

Sam waved his hand at the bartender, a grizzled old man who looked so comfortable behind the bar Laura had to wonder if he was one of the few who’d been able to pick up his old life profession in the new world order. 

“Jack, one of these for the lady, please.” He winked at Laura and she felt her shoulders relax a smidge. When the barkeep barely glanced in his direction, he called out, “Sometime this year, if you don’t mind.”

Jack turned around to glare but his furry eyebrows practically crawled up into his hairline when he caught sight of Laura. He nodded crisply, grabbed a glass and a bottle, and came to stand in front of them. 

Laura thanked him politely once he was done pouring and Sam fumbled in his pocket for some cash. The older man stopped him with a raised hand and turned toward Laura. 

“The president don’t ever pay for nothing in my bar,” he said with a slight bow. “Not after all she’s done for alla us.”

Laura blushed and murmured her thanks but the barkeep didn’t pick up on her embarrassment. 

“I want you to know, ma’am, I voted for ya. Not that fool Baltar, Gods help us. If you were still in the big chair we wouldn’t be on this frakking mudball.”

When he paused to take a breath, Sam interjected in a pointed tone. 

“Thanks, Jack. But Ms. Roslin’s here to drink just like everyone else. No need for politics tonight.”

The man muttered something unintelligible, bowed to Laura again, and shuffled off to a pack of customers eagerly awaiting his attention. 

“Thank you,” Laura said as she picked up her drink and tilted it toward Sam, “more than you know, thank you.”

He grinned, clinked her glass, and took a large swallow. Laura took a much smaller sip but she still had to use all her years of political skills to turn her wince into a weak smile. 

“That,” she declared with a disdainful look at her drink, “is the definition of vile.”

Sam chuckled his agreement. 

“It is. It’s also what’s considered top shelf these days.”

Laura sighed and took another swallow. She was pleasantly surprised when Sam didn’t try to make small talk. They sat in companionable silence until a colonist, a slight young woman with a fraying sweater and makeshift hat timidly approached. 

“Madame President,” she said in a small voice, “I just wanted to say me and my family still pray for you every night.”

Laura cringed at the allusion to her days as a religious symbol but nodded her acceptance anyway. The girl seemed too scared to say much more and was gone as quickly as she came. 

Sam chose that moment, the exact right one, to start up the conversation. Laura found herself talking easily about the school and his pyramid team but every few minutes they were interrupted by another patron, some as polite as the first and others a little less reverent. 

He’d finished his drink and most of another by the time she choked down all of hers. He motioned toward her empty glass and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. 

“I should go.” She reached out and touched his forearm lightly. “I appreciate it, really, but this can’t be much more fun for you than it is for me.”

His understanding smile was more than polite when it came and Laura found herself regretting that she couldn’t just stay and continue their conversation without being interrupted every other sentence. She’d always liked the young man from afar but hadn’t understood completely until tonight that under the dumb jock exterior was an intelligent, considerate gentleman. 

As if on cue, he stood, motioned for her to do the same, then picked up her coat and helped her slip her arms through the sleeves. 

“Can I walk you home?”

Laura hesitated. There was nothing untoward about his request, nothing at all, but the rumor mill would be buzzing like a beehive if the former president left with the Colonies’ only living sports celebrity in the middle of the night. 

He seemed to read her mind. He looked over the bar and motioned to Jack. When the man was halfway to them, he raised his voice well above the din and declared his intentions much louder than necessary. 

“Keep my tab open, will ya? I’ll be back, I’m just gonna walk Madame President back to her tent.”

Jack nodded approvingly and Laura had to feign a cough to hide her smile. She was even more impressed when Sam managed to use his body and his glare to ward off any more potential admirers on their way toward the door. 

She made it just outside before she started giggling helplessly. Somewhere in the midst of her fit she grabbed Sam’s arm and forgot to let go when he steered them toward the road. 

“You’re good at that,” she explained when she finally calmed, “I should have hired you as a bodyguard when I was in office.”

It was his turn to laugh, a deep, musical sound Laura liked immediately. 

“Imagine that,” he said with a shake of his head, “Gods, the team would get a kick out of seeing me on the other side.”

The mention of dead friends, as always even after so much time had passed, prompted the almost ritualistic moment of silence. When Sam spoke again, his voice was soft.

“At first, I loved being famous. Frakking loved every minute of it.” 

He grinned, an almost wistful look on his face. Laura elbowed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, yes, Mr. Anders. I can see how being Caprica’s most eligible bachelor could have some pretty good perks for a man your age.”

He laughed and nodded. 

“Yes, yes it did. At first. Like, the thing that comes with fame is that you never have to be alone. There’s always someone there who wants to hang out.” He caught Laura’s suggestive look and rolled his eyes. “Okay, and sometimes do more than just hang out.”

Laura nodded but didn’t comment. His arm was warm against hers and, while she knew it might have been the effects of that atrocious beverage, she felt more content strolling along and listening to his voice than she had in a long time. 

“Anyway, it got old fast. All of it. I understood pretty quickly none of those people were really my friends. I had to watch my back all the time. Everyone was always running to the papers, telling wild tales.”

Laura remembered some of those, vaguely. Unbidden, her brain suddenly hit upon one persistent rumor about the C-Bucs’ starter and she had to consciously jerk her eyes away from the bulge in his jeans to avoid checking to see if she could ascertain its truth. 

Sam didn’t seem to notice. He was chattering on about knowing exactly how she felt in the bar.

“Except most of the people who came up to me didn’t exactly have the gods on their mind, if you know what I mean.”

She gulped in a deep breath of cool air and tried to school her features into a neutral expression. She suddenly realized she might be a bit more tipsy than she’d thought when they left the bar. 

“Well, at least I know there was no one in there who secretly wanted to frak the former president.”

Okay, she thought as she processed her own words, a _lot_ drunker than she thought. 

She was about to apologize when Sam stopped her with that laugh of his. She mentally changed the descriptive word for it from musical to sexy. 

“Are you kidding me? There’s not a man left alive who wouldn’t die to have those legs of yours wrapped around him.”

Laura chuckled nervously, and looked down at the ground to avoid meeting his eyes. A charged silence enveloped them as they walked the final few feet to her tent, and only when they’d stopped just outside the entrance did she have the courage to look up at him again. 

“Well, Mr. Anders, this is me,” she said feebly. She longed for the days she could have busied herself looking for her keys in her purse to avoid his heated, questioning gaze. 

Sam nodded and shuffled his feet but made no move to leave. Laura swallowed hard and pasted on her politician’s smile, the one that most people read correctly as a dismissal. She had to mentally silence the voice in her head reminding her Sam Anders had proven tonight he wasn’t like most people.

“Thank you for walking me home.” Laura patted his chest, and felt his muscles tense under her palm. “And for the drink.” Her own body tensed when he lifted his hand and wrapped his fingers gently around her wrist, his thumb brushing lightly against her pulse point. 

“You’re welcome, Madame President,” he said. His voice was deeper than before and Laura knew it wasn’t just the slight chill in the air that made her shiver. “But if I’m your bodyguard, I would be shirking my duties if I left without making sure you’re completely safe first, right?”

He dropped her hand and stepped past her to open the flap of the tent before she could respond. She stilled, trying to come to terms with and interpret Sam’s actions, while she listened to him rummaging around inside. The swish of a match and a sudden brightness told her he’d found her lamp and, obviously, deemed her home free of intruders. 

She stepped into the familiar warm glow and paused to let her eyes adjust. Sam was on his knees near her little stove, rummaging through the box where she kept her meager stash of tea leaves. He glanced back, and shot her a sheepish grin. 

“Um, want some tea?” The uncharacteristic awkwardness in his tone and movements brought a smile to Laura’s lips; she’d always liked playing with the home court advantage. 

She moved to stand beside him and laid her hand on his shoulder. He stood quickly and turned to meet her gaze. 

“Did you always force your way into women’s homes without asking?” Laura softened her words with a playful wink and Sam puffed out his chest in mock offense.

“As a matter of fact, no, Madame President,” he said with his own wry grin, “you’re the first woman who ever had a chance with me and didn’t take it.”

Laura hummed noncommittally and brought her hand to his bicep, rubbing it absentmindedly as she studied him. He stayed completely still for a moment, eyes never leaving her face. She knew he was going to kiss her when he lifted her chin but the knowledge did nothing to mitigate her surprise when his lips hit hers. The kiss was gentle and chaste, a question she answered quickly by opening her mouth invitingly.

She let her body melt into his chest and he gracefully supported her with a strong arm around her waist, his lips and tongue never once faltering. She ran her fingers over his muscled arms and chest and moaned into his mouth when his fondled her nipples through her coat. He smelled exquisite, like liquor and sweat and something more primal. 

He had her coat and blouse off before her brain kicked in. Frakking all propriety to hell was one thing but suddenly the urgent, nagging doubt at the back of her mind focused into the image of one blonde Viper pilot. 

She pulled back with a start and he made a noise of protest before meeting her eyes. 

“Sam, we can’t do this. What about Kara?”

A look of hurt crossed his features and he sighed heavily. 

“She’s up top again tonight.” 

He said it like she was supposed to understand but she didn’t. She nodded for him to go on and was surprised when he laughed almost cruelly. 

“Gods, you really are out of the loop. The whole damn fleet knows, or at least I thought.” His eyes darkened. “I heard you used to call him Captain Apollo. Lee Adama. She’s frakking him.”

He said it so matter of factly that Laura didn’t know how to respond. She stayed still for a moment, remembering the time in her life when she used to fantasize about it being Apollo’s young body pressed against hers, his lips suckling her neck like Sam was doing now. 

She arched away from him and demanded his gaze with her eyes. 

“If we do this, you have to promise me it isn’t some sort of revenge,” she warned seriously. “Or some frakked up one-upmanship or something.”

His features softened and he lifted his hand to stroke her hair back from her face. 

“It’s not. I promise.” 

He planted a gentle kiss on her temple and her eyes fluttered closed. He kissed his way to her ear and pulled her hair back so his breath would tickle the sensitive skin. 

“This is just a regular guy meeting a regular girl at a bar and thinking she’s so sexy he can’t help but take her home and frak her brains out.”

Laura whimpered and let herself go limp in his embrace. He practically carried her to her cot and they started to undress each other in a frenzied whirlwind of kisses and nips. 

They were both down to only their pants and underwear when Laura started to unbutton hers, eager to get to the main event tenting his. He grabbed her hand and shook his head. 

“Please, let me,” he said softly. 

She shrugged and laid back so he could hook the band of her pants and underwear and shimmy them down her legs. 

“Holy frak,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s true. It’s all true. The frakking president has the best legs in the universe.”

Laura fixed him with a mock serious glare. “Excuse me?”

He mimed a contrite expression and ran a hand down the expanse of her left leg.

“Oh, I mean, beautiful, Laura, absolutely beautiful.” He stopped on her curls and rubbed on her folds distractedly. “That is your actual name, right?”

His dumb jock expression almost had her fooled but he couldn’t hold it long enough. He burst out laughing and she joined him, but not before taking a playful swipe at his arm with her nails. 

He dodged it easily, catching her hand instead. His eyes sparkled playfully. “Or should I call you Madame President while I frak you? That’d be kind of kinky, no?”

She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand free so she could dive for his boxers. “Only if you want me to castrate you, Mr. Anders.”

He moved back, just out of her reach, and nodded sagely. “Ah, so that’s how you cope without the airlock.”

She glared and reasserted her position at his thinning blue underwear. 

“I heard a rumor,” she said huskily, “or, really, I read it. Back on Caprica, in fact.” She stroked his length through the fabric and he moaned breathily. 

“What was that?”

She pulled back the band but waited to peek inside. 

“I heard the star C-Buc was hung like a frakking Leonese elephant.” 

Sam’s eyes widened in shock and, for a moment, Laura was afraid she’d said the wrong thing. Sam Anders was far more than his storied persona and, she’d learned, not quite as comfortable with it as she’d thought.

Before she could try to correct her mistake, the younger man was laughing that sexy laugh of his and pulling her down onto him for another deep, heated kiss. When he pulled away it was to track more gentle kisses along her jaw and up to her ear. 

“I don’t know how the Secretary of Education got it past the news hounds that she was frakking Leonese elephants for comparison,” he whispered flatly.

Laura burst into a giggle fit so violent her whole body shook. Sam took the opportunity to hold her against him and let his erection hit up against her sex in time with her body’s movements. Her laughter quickly morphed into frenetic groans and she had to force herself away from his mouth so she could relieve him of his boxers. 

Laura managed to control herself long enough to pretend to do an extended inspection of his anatomy. She hummed approvingly as she stroked his rather impressive length, drawing a breathy groan from his lips. 

“So, how do I measure up, Madame President?” 

She cupped one of his balls in each of her hands and hummed again as she worked the smooth skin with her thumbs. She was surprised to see apprehension in his eyes even as his hips started to buck up against her weight. 

“Leroy at the Caprica City zoo was bigger, I’m afraid to say,” she said, only able to hold her serious expression for a split second before he was pulling her down against him again. 

“Frak Leroy,” he growled playfully, his laughter once again sending a shiver through her body. Laura never imagined she’d laugh so much during sex at her age and that thought alone had her positioning herself above his length without further thought. 

“No, frak me,” she ordered, and Sam could only nod once before pushing himself against her entrance. She was ready and writhing but he was still careful, pausing to allow her to sink down on him at her own pace. 

They groaned in unison when he was all the way in. Laura opened her eyes to find him staring up at her, his eyes dark with arousal. 

“Beautiful, Laura,” he said appreciatively. He steadied her with both hands on her hips before letting go with one to find her hand and direct it to her curls. She caught on to his plan and found her clit with practiced ease, moaning at the first hit of pressure. 

He put his hands back on her hips and, again, let her set the pace. It had been so long, so, so long and suddenly the heat building in her stomach combined with the sensation of being completely, blissfully filled was too intense to take it slow. Sam’s eyes flashed in surprise when she started riding him hard, the nails on the hand not working furiously between her legs digging into his chest with such force it was sure to leave a mark. 

Her orgasm came too fast, in her opinion, the waves of lightning ripping through her with such intensity that she found herself falling forward. Sam arched himself up and caught her keening cries in his mouth. She felt his length leave her body as she shivered through the last of the throes and missed it immediately. 

She found herself giggling again, her face nuzzled next to his ear, as her breathing slowed. His gentle, answering laughter rumbled through his chest and she reveled in the sensations the movement sent through her nipples. 

She captured his lips and his hand worked its way down between her legs. In one fluid motion he flipped them so he was on top, his erection digging into her leg. He’d never stopped touching her and she’d just opened her eyes to tell him not to when he gently stroked her hair back from her face. 

“You think you can go again?” 

He seemed so young then and Laura had to stop her brain from going somewhere her body definitely didn’t. She smiled up at him instead, her eyes sparking. 

“Oh, yes, Mr. Anders. Leroy could always go more than once, after all.”

Sam rolled his eyes and moved back to position himself again. As he slid into her heat, he poked her stomach with his finger and grinned. 

“Well, then, Laura. Again it is. All part of the service here at New Caprica City Zoo.” 

Laura didn’t have time to giggle even once before she needed her breath to keep up with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let her body take over one more time. By the time he spilled into her with a muffled groan, she knew she was going to be sore tomorrow but didn’t regret a single minute of it. 

There were, after all, some perks to being a private citizen and Sam Anders was turning out to be one of them.


End file.
